Sharif Dumani has been a figure of the Los Angeles underground scene for quite some time, first as the guitarist of L.A. Times (whose unreleased 7” was just pulled from the vaults and released concurrent with this LP) and more recently as the leader of the mid-tempo psych band, the Moon Upstairs, who released one great album and toured with the Silver Apples.  With the Exploding Flowers, Dumani speeds it up and adds in some loud guitars, creating what is most likely my favorite album so far of 2011.  Like most L.A. musicians who frequent the East Side, Dumani’s musical influences are rooted in the past.  Flashes of Big Star and Guided by Voices and are dispersed throughout the record, and the press sticker cites influence from Flying Nun era New Zealand and the Paisley Underground as well.  Its layers of sound also bring to mind some of my favorite “retro” bands of the last decade, mostly the Cuts and the Soundtrack of Our Lives.  In fact, this album reminds me a lot of the Cuts’ final album, From Here on Out, one of my favorite albums ever, though Exploding Flowers is rooted more in 1989 than in 1972.  Two standouts on this LP are “The Gods of Your Evening’s Entertainment,” where Dumani sings of “avocado covered eyeballs” before entering a chorus that has become permanently etched into my subconscious; and “Capturing the New Frontier,” the brief, pulsating, Joy Division-esque closer.

—Daniel Clodfelter

Darker My Love’s Tim Presley delivered one of the most unexpected and impressive LPs of last year with his solo project White Fence’s self-titled debut. At the time, it was one of the best records L.A. RECORD ever randomly received; about a year later, it is still completely fascinating. White Fence plays Friday at Blue Star with Cold Showers, the Urinals and Night Control (win tickets here!) so we are re-printing this interview by Daniel Clodfelter now!

Was it your intention, when making the first record, to make the listener wonder if their record player was broken?
Ha! No! I grew up listening to tapes so it just sounds right to me. I haven’t really thought about this growing up but I’m pretty sure that possibly my ears—and maybe a lot of people are on the same boat—have just adjusted to hearing music from a cassette. Like that’s what music’s supposed to sound like—like an old cassette or music you’ve already known. If you listen to—not to get all Steve Albini or whatever—a tape, it just sounds good to me, like a mixtape that has been dubbed a million times. That’s what I’m trying to do.
How did you create that warped cassette sound on the first LP? Is it a delay effect?
No, that’s just because it was dubbed from cassette. It’s just from bouncing it back and pitch-shifting things. My 4-track recorder does a weird almost pitch-shift thing on its own sometimes. I don’t know why it does it! And from bouncing the tracks so many times some natural warpage occurs as well.
How do you reproduce the delay effects and warped sounds that appear on the record in a live setting?
I try not to think about how to recreate the record live, but I think in the future I’m definitely going to try to incorporate some weird loops or something. It turns into a big thing. Since I don’t really have a solid group to practice with all the time, as Sean [Presley, of S.F. band Nodzzz and Tim’s brother] and the guys live in San Francisco, so far it has been more of a straightforward rock show.
Last time you talked with L.A. RECORD—as a member of Darker My Love—you stated your distaste of genre labels like ‘punk’ and ‘psychedelic.’ How do you feel about White Fence being tagged with genre labels like ‘lo-fi’ and ‘DIY’?
It’s hard to say. I feel like ‘lo-fi’ is more of a technical term, whereas ‘psychedelic’ is just a perception of what a kind of music is. The ‘lo-fi’ thing doesn’t bother me as much, though there is a lot of that going around, and that’s fine. My whole point was that the label ‘punk’ can be used to describe so many things—all the way to Blink-182. It’s just so wide that it doesn’t get down to what it really is. It doesn’t mean anything. As far as ‘lo-fi,’ you can call it whatever you want but it’s a matter of whether the music is any good or not. Maybe you could just file it under ‘good music.’
I’m ready for the ‘good music’ copycats!
I’m not that bummed about the genre thing. But I feel like if you get stuck in some genre you keep making the same thing. In a weird way, it seems like that is what people want. With the new Darker My Love record, it’s not very psychedelic, and I feel like a lot of people are like, ‘What happened to the psychedelic-ness, man?’ I dunno—it’s all just music.
What made you want to start White Fence when you were already doing Darker My Love and touring with the Strange Boys?
I had recorded the songs at home and they sounded fine to me. I didn’t want to re-record them or nitpick them. There’s something special about recording a song right as you write it. The thing is, I never expected these songs to ever be released. My brother, Sean, was over one night and asked what I was doing recording-wise. I played him some tracks and he asked me to make him a CD. Later he was playing it in his car and his buddy Eric—of Make A Mess Records and at the time the drummer of Nodzzz—heard it and decided to put it out.
What inspired you to record by yourself in the first place?
I think I just all of a sudden had the guts to do, say and write exactly what I wanted.
When you’re writing, what makes you decide whether you will use it for White Fence or Darker My Love?
I don’t know! I have no idea! I guess I just had a bunch of songs written and didn’t think some of them would work with Darker My Love. Not to sound selfish or weird, but I didn’t want to go through the whole band process, which is dealing with a democracy of five guys. When I write a song for Darker My Love I have four other guys in mind. It’s like writing a play and having the actors bring it to life. White Fence is just me.
Who is White Fence when it’s not just you?
So far all the recorded songs are just me. Live, my brother has played every show. He’s been the ringleader at getting the group together. His roommate, Moe, has been playing drums and we swap two different bass players.
I really enjoyed the Johnny Thunders and the Heartbreakers cover at the end of your upcoming LP, …Is Growing Faith—the toy keyboard you added is a great touch!
Between 18 and my early twenties I was obsessed with Johnny Thunders. Don’t ask me why.
I went through several years of Thunders obsession myself!
I revisited his stuff again recently and was blown away by how great of a song ‘You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory’ is. New York Dolls cheesiness aside, it is a really amazing song. The lyrics are insanely well-written.
The first song on …Is Growing Faith seems to be simply someone answering a phone with ‘If You’re Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands’ playing in the background. What recent phone call made you the happiest?
Probably when Ryan from Strange Boys called me last week to come down and record some vocals for their new album. That was a good one. I’m generally pretty afraid of phones. When the phone rings I can’t answer it; I hate it. Phones freak me out. I try not to answer the phone as much as possible.
I just picked up a copy of the Nerves tribute album on Volar/I Hate Rock ‘n’ Roll, which features your art and a White Fence track. [And a track from the interviewer’s band, Shark Toys!—ed.] How does being a graphic artist affect your music?
It’s kept me humble—because I don’t get paid. For anything! I’ve done so much art for a lot of people and I never get paid. I don’t really ask for money, though. It doesn’t really do anything for the music. However, it is fun to listen to the music and to try to apply some visuals to it. I get a real kick out of that.
You have an art opening this month—with Ryan from Strange Boys and a few others. What kind of art will you be showing?
I’ve been trying to focus on art and showing it in galleries. The work displayed at this show—opening January 8th at Family bookstore—is the cover art for the new White Fence LP, …Is Growing Faith. I have also recently written a book called You Don’t Have Your Eyes Yet. It’s mostly prose and poetry.
Who are some of the musical—or nonmusical—influences for White Fence?
Maybe Ben Franklin. He was an ideas man. I admire that. For one man to accomplish all that he did—he invented a lot of strange and important things. I really admire Frank Zappa. I don’t really enjoy half of his music but there are some records that I really like. I’ve read two books on him already and I like the way he thinks. He can be kind of an asshole though. I have a weird thing with him and his personal politics. I’m 50/50. There are songs I like and the others I just forget about. I’ve been infatuated with Darby Crash lately!
In your last L.A. RECORD interview, you mentioned that you and Mark E. Smith jumped somebody. Who would you want to help you beat someone up next?
As an older brother I’d like to beat up anyone who messes with my little brother, Sean. I haven’t been feeling very violent lately, though I do go through spurts where I feel like I want to just kill everybody. No, I’m a peaceful guy!
Do you feel like this is a good or bad time for ‘good music’ in LA?
The state of music right now is actually amazing in Los Angeles. But when people start realizing it then it will probably get really weird and bad. For example, the Best Coast phenomenon—that’s awesome, but how about all the other bands that are just as good? I dunno. I think there are amazing musicians and great ideas in a lot of people in L.A. right now and I feel like I’m just waiting for it to pop. We have a lot of great bands here. You see what No Age did was kind of set a really good precedent for really good DIY bands to just do their thing. So now it’s in the toddler stages. I think No Age kind of kicked it all off.
Someone posted a comment to the Darker My Love L.A. RECORD interview claiming you sounded like ‘a corner in Silverlake.’ In what realm of Los Angeles does White Fence truly dwell?
It would have to be Echo Park because that’s where I live. I think it’s more domesticated than that—the four walls of my room! But when it’s the live band in San Francisco, it’s basically a party. It’s everywhere. What do you think? Does it sound like it’s from L.A.?
I think Dan Collins described it best as ‘a multi-colored slug sliding through your brain.’ And that slug could be crawling through our brains anywhere.
That’s good! That’s my new answer! I don’t really get the ‘Silver Lake’ and ‘Echo Park’ thing. You couldn’t really say that about L.A. punk really; for instance, in the 1980s, X sounded different from the Germs—etc., etc., etc.!

L.A. RECORD PRESENTS WHITE FENCE WITH COLD SHOWERS, THE URINALS AND NIGHT CONTROL PLUS DJ TOM PILLA ON FRI., JULY 15, AT THE PSYCHO BEACH PARTY AT BLUE STAR, 2200 E. 15TH ST., DOWNTOWN. 9 PM / $10 / 18+. GET TICKETS HERE OR WIN TICKETS HERE! WHITE FENCE’S … IS GROWING FAITH IS OUT NOW ON WOODSIST. VISIT WHITE FENCE AT WHITEFENCEARTCOLLECTIVE.BLOGSPOT.COM.

The Horribly Wrong take the cartoonish violence from the childish id and cram it all into a gleeful, in-the-red punk rock rant. I’m talking axes and killing children and burning down the house with your whole family in it. It makes me want to drink Pabst from the can and slam into a wall. My main tocallo and fellow reviewer Daniel Clodfelter, who’s way more into lo-fi DIY punk than I will ever be, heard this record and said “eh,” but that’s what punkers said in the early ’80s about Glen Danzig, and look who wound up being BFF with Henry Rollins! The Horribly Wrong share a love of all things bloody and killer robot with the Misfits, though not their sound—here you’ll find more than a little Dwarves, with a fast-fast-fast riffing that brings to mind late-’90s/early-’00s bands like the Seculars, or any backyard band that loved the Dead Boys but played twice as fast and did shitty coke all night in their aunt’s rec room. The lyrics stretch into the absurd, but why not? Novelist Tim O’Brien stresses the value of “story truth” or “happening truth” when writing about the Vietnam War, and being young and punk rock is its own casualty-filled jungle. I’m sure neither I nor The Horribly Wrong has truthfully woken up with “blood all over my body” and no memory of how it happened, but boy, can I relate!
—Dan Collins

Viewing from the bar, the frighteningly disturbing murals of Renaissance painter Hieronymus Bosch which covered the walls and the sanguine hued lights which engulfed the stage gave one the impression that they were at the gates of Hell rather than at the Henry Fonda Theatre in Hollywood.  Yet there was no thought of escaping. In the final show of their North American tour, Grinderman reminded Los Angeles how relevant and raw Nick Cave still is.  Throughout his set of strictly Grinderman material, Cave spat out his often dark and sexual lyrics while shifting between a black electric Telecaster, an electric piano, and even an acoustic guitar for one song.  The energy Cave forced upon the crowd caused those in the front to draw their arms toward the stage like lost souls reaching for one last morsel of salvation. And this was no average sized crowd. Grinderman sold out the show months ahead and every inch of dance floor, bar, and balcony was fought for and conquered by those with the deepest fanaticism. Throughout the set, Cave howled and thrusted like the rabid wolf on the cover of Grinderman 2.  Backing him up, Warren Ellis, Martyn P. Casey, and Jim Sclavunos resembled Greenwich Village bearded beatniks (say Ginsberg or the Fugs) and they were rhythmically the tightest backing band I have seen, which makes sense since they have all been with Nick Cave in the Bad Seeds since the mid-90s.  The multi-instrumentalist Ellis was a star of the show, switching between violin, electric guitar, maracas, and two electric Mandocasters (an electric mandolin which resembles a Fender Stratocaster). On one song, he would dance like a mad gypsy while wailing away at the violin, and the next, he would crash his maracas into a high-hat cymbal to provide some auxiliary percussion. On the song “Evil,” off of Grinderman 2, Ellis rolled on the floor and literally did crunches while belting out the chorus line.  The band preformed most of the songs from their two self-titled full-length albums and after an encore they departed the stage to let the damned return to their lives.

—Daniel Clodfelter

Download: The Art Museums “Sculpture Garden”

(from Rough Frame out now on Woodsist)

The Art Museums, a two-piece from San Francisco with roots in the city’s psychedelic folk scene from the early aughts, have created an album of seemingly simple tunes that are instantly hypnotizing and captivating. Repeated listening is unavoidable. On this album, the duo, which consists of Josh Alper and Glenn Donaldson (and a drum machine), manages to do the same thing for late ’80s/early ’90s lo-fi that Viva L’American Death Ray Music did for the Velvet Underground, Bowie and ’70s punk: create an album which mines the troughs of their influences yet still manage to make the recordings relevant to the 21st century. And it’s really fucking good. This record recalls hints of Belle and Sebastian, the Clean (or, more precisely, David Kilgour’s post-Clean band the Great Unwashed), Yo La Tengo, and Unrest while also burying its vocals in haunting echo, in the style of their Woodsist buddies. The lyricism of this album also seems much stronger than most tracks I hear these days, though the lack of a lyric sheet leaves room for mystery and imagination. The standout track on this is the opener, “We Can’t Handle It,” on which a pitchy synth intro leads into a sing-along chorus that sounds like an ode to a burnout drummer with a Moe Tucker infatuation! There are plenty of subtleties on this record. Like finding a new flower on your favorite path, each listen brings new surprises.

—Daniel Clodfelter

Download: Clorox Girls “This Dimension”

(from This Dimension on Smart Guy)

Justin Maurer has been the leader of Clorox Girls for about a decade, has narrowly escaped organ theft in Turkey on at least one occasion, and has a book of fiction coming out this spring. Dan Collins and Daniel Clodfelter catch up with him in Long Beach at the Pike—the bar on 4th Street, NOT the lame outdoor tourist mall also called the Pike, which the Dans found out after much confusion spent stumbling through an Islands restaurant across from P.F. Chang’s. This month the Clorox Girls will play their first L.A. show in two years.

You almost went to prison once for exposing yourself to a minor.
Justin Maurer (guitar/vocals): It was in Redmond, Washington, kind of the conservative area of Seattle. They called the police, they came, and when they came out and told me to stop, I put one of those orange roadside cones in front of me! They tried to charge me with a felony for exposing myself to a minor 14 years old or younger, and it was just being naked for playing a show. I didn’t know there was a 14-year-old girl in the audience! It was her mom who pressed charges. I had to go to court. My public defender was pregnant and didn’t come to maybe 75 percent of my trials. It took over a year. They reduced the charge to a gross misdemeanor. I ended up having to pay shitloads of money and do community service.
That sounds Clorox-esque—musically, you tend to balance between serious danger and lighthearted fun. Are you guys more like a Dario Argento film where a shark fights a zombie? Or are you more like a kitten sunning himself on a windowsill?
Justin Maurer: I think it’s more like The Warriors. We’ve been trying to get back to Coney Island for almost ten years now, and we still haven’t made it back.
You did a zombie music video a couple years ago. Who directed that?
Justin Maurer: Brady Hall, the Jerkbeast guy. He did another movie called Butt Cutter, which starred two of the guys from Holy Ghost Revival, who we’re really good friends with. And we loved Jerkbeast so much that we asked him to do a video. And he did.
You guys have covered Holy Ghost Revival and you’ve toured with them. You seem to be kindred spirits.
Justin Maurer: We grew up together—Conor, the singer. At a time when the jocks at my high school were just into Dre and Eminem, Conor was the kind of guy wearing lipstick to high school and listening to Alice Cooper. I always thought Conor was one of the most amazing songwriters of all time. They did that song ‘Flowers of Evil,’ but it was kind of a lo-fi recording. They kind of never did it justice. And you know how bands hate it when the crowd requests the same song over and over? They stopped playing it. And finally I asked Conor if we could cover it, and he came down and played piano on half the album and sang backing vocals. I feel so honored to have had anything to do with them period, because they’re one of the greatest bands of all time.
You moved to London to manage Holy Ghost Revival and just came back from being in England for two years. How do you keep a band like the Clorox Girls together while living abroad?
Justin Maurer: Well, it was in definite hiatus for a while. I found out I was going to be here for a while, and we decided to play a couple shows. Richie’s on drums and Daniel moved to London, but couldn’t come back because of his credit card bills, so Tommy from the Rough Kids is playing bass.
While there, you joined a band with Chris Brief called Suspect Parts. What was it like playing shows with that band in England and Europe?
Justin Maurer: It was good! In mainland Europe, folks literally give you the shirts off their backs. You go and play and they give you dinner, as much beer as you can drink all night, a place to stay, breakfast, and it’s just assumed. I was living in Spain and Chris was in Germany, and during the Briefs’ last tour Chris came up to me and said, ‘We should be in a band.’ And we did a couple tours and a couple 7”, but it was difficult because Chris was in Berlin, I was in London. We’d wait three months and tour for a week, and wait three months and tour for a week. I really missed tour! I had withdrawal. And in England right now, the music scene is so dire and depressing and disappointing. It’s all about haircuts and not about the music. It’s all laptops and drum machines—things that could be alright if people were innovative! But if you think about it, the Libertines were the last exciting thing to happen over there. The kids aren’t starting garage bands. I’m so stoked to be spending some time in America.
When you were a kid, you used to light fireworks out of your butt! Do you wish you had a ghostly proctologist friend to help soothe your wounds?
Justin Maurer: Every once in a while. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced being on tour where you end up just shitting blood—it happened to me so many times. I had to call the doctor in Sweden one time and this guy had to translate. You know, ‘What is the problem?’ And I literally had to say, ‘Shitting blood.’ ‘What color is it?’ ‘Bright red.’ ‘Oh, that’s okay. If it was dark brown, you’d have internal bleeding. But since it’s bright red, you just need to eat more vegetables and fiber.’
Good medical advice for our readers! You’ve also been deliberately poisoned once.
Justin Maurer: I was drugged in Istanbul. There was this barbeque where they’d make these sandwiches for 50 cents, and I was hanging out there and everybody was all, ‘My friend! Where you from, my friend?’ And I’d be like, ‘America.’ And this guy goes, ‘Sacramento Kings! We have a Turkish player. NBA! NBA! Where are you from?’ And I said Seattle, and he goes, ‘Seattle Supersonics! Sacramento Kings! If you ever need a cheap flight, talk to me! I’m the Kings!’ So we were looking for a flight from Istanbul to Rome, and we couldn’t find a cheap flight. So we ran into this guy, and he took us into a rug shop where this guy was talking about how Romanian hookers in Turkey were so much cheaper than the prostitutes in Las Vegas. And he was smoking hash really openly, and in Turkey you can go to jail for life for even having a joint on you. And so he must have been dodgy in some way. So we had some cups of tea in these big glasses and after about the second glass, I started getting really woozy. And I washed my face off with water and realized it was the date rape drug, and that he’d spiked our drinks. And we managed to get out of there, but I was passed out for about fourteen hours straight. I shit myself. I puked. And I don’t know what he wanted—if he was going to steal my liver or passport, or kidnap me, or whatever.
Were you on tour?
Justin Maurer: No, me and a friend decided to go to Istanbul. It was great! You just have to watch yourself. The craziest thing I saw in Istanbul was an ad in Cosmo magazine of this really busty American woman. And this little boy had a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt on and one of those laser guns—‘Bew bew bew bew!’—holding hands with this fully veiled mom in front of this Cosmo ad. And it was really the clash of civilization. You saw it happen right in front of your face. And you—you’re the walking Cosmo magazine! You’re just a tall, white, imperialist, blonde-hair … ‘Who the fuck are you to come here and tell us how to live?’
Which Ninja Turtle is the most offensive to Islamic culture?
Justin Maurer: Probably Michelangelo, just because …
Because they associate him with the Vatican’s ceiling? If the Ninja Turtles are Catholic, what’s the Islamic equivalent of Shredder?
Justin Maurer: The Supreme Ruler of Iran. He’s the equivalent of the Pope, I think. The new leader of Hamas can be Splinter. You can pretend I know his name.
If you’re imperialist Americans, why did you name your 2007 album J’aime Les Filles?
Justin Maurer: Honestly, it was kind of a reactionary thing. We were doing a record on BYO, who were known for being kind of tattoo/skater/macho punk rock. And we were like, ‘Let’s do a French POP ALBUM!’ And we were really into Jacques Dutronc, and we did a cover of this French pop singer Lio—‘Les Banana Split.’ And we were listening to a lot of Starshooter and old French punk. At the time, Richie came to Portland, and we were sleeping on the bassist Daniel’s girlfriend’s apartment’s floor, and the only thing that would cheer us up was listening to French pop. At the time I was so depressed and had such a chip on my shoulder, and listening to Les Calamités was the only thing that would cheer me up. And we were about to do a record on BYO, and I felt like we had to be macho, and I thought we should go the other way and do what we do best, but slightly gay. And we did, and the album did sound pretty gay—in good and bad ways!
That record was produced by Pat Kearns, who also did the Exploding Hearts. It was a little more polished than your old stuff. Where do you see your next album going?
Justin Maurer: It’s going back to old L.A. punk, to the Crowd and the Gears. And to Fullerton—Adolescents, Angry Samoans, early Social Distortion. I dunno—I wanted to do a pop album, but now I want to do a punk album, really bad!
Speaking of old L.A. punk, don’t you and Don Bolles from the Germs go back?
Justin Maurer: He had a crush on our first bass player, Jeanique. And at the time she was about 19. We were playing with the Stitches at Juvee, and it was one of our first shows ever in Los Angeles. And it was such a great show. We met Janet Housden from Redd Kross—she interviewed the band who was wielding the chain and the dog masks in your last issue—and we were stoked! And Don Bolles comes up and asks, ‘What’s up with the “Clorox Fox?”’ And Jeanique was my girlfriend at the time—not to mention she was 19! And he was playing in that goth band where the guy hung himself …
Dethbred!
Justin Maurer: He was hanging out with a bunch of really big-boobed 15-year-old goth girls wearing corsets and the goth boots. And he was like, ‘I came to watch your band. Come and watch my band.’ And we walked across the street to the Garage, and the singer was so strung out. They set up all these stacked Marshall amps, about a thousand pedals, and it was about 40 minutes of him trying to get it to work and Don Bolles shrugging his shoulders. And we told him we wanted to hang out the next morning and have champagne breakfast with him, but we were just kind of kidding. But he called us the next morning and asked if we were coming, and we said no, we had to go to a show in San Francisco. And he gets all silent for a second and goes, ‘I live near Dodger Stadium. There’s no food around here at all. I thought you guys were going to come here.’ And I sincerely felt bad! And the drummer and I wanted to go over—we thought maybe we could find some Germs 45s that we could have or something—but Jeanique was so creeped out that we just ended up going to San Francisco and leaving Don Bolles at his apartment near Dodger Stadium without any champagne, nor breakfast—ha ha! But I have a Germs tattoo, and I was too embarrassed to show him.
Why do all the Clorox Girls have an ‘M’ tattoo on their wrists?
Justin Maurer: It’s kind of tongue-in-cheek, but I was in a political science class and the key to success is the triple Ms: money plus media equals momentum! It’s the key to success for any American political campaign. So in a band, it’s the same, and I was really into it. ‘Look, you have the money, right?!? You fucking tour your ass off, you put out a record. And then you have the media. You get a couple interviews’—like hey, right now—‘and then after they print the interview, then you get momentum! And that makes you more money, and then you get more media and get more momentum!’ But we didn’t have any money in our equation. We only had double Ms—we never had triple Ms. If we had any money for a second, we just made the wrong decisions. But now I’m older and wiser, and Clorox Girls are back, and we’re going to DO it. Triple Ms!
Your next thing is coming out on Burger Records—a cassette release of old Clorox Girls demos.
Justin Maurer: Yep! It’s the first couple of 7” and then a bunch of weird demos. They’re actually mastering it, so hopefully it’ll sound alright. It’s kind of a craze, the cassette thing, isn’t it?
Ever since Bad Brains.
Justin Maurer: I’m really stoked. The guys are really nice guys. I haven’t been to Fullerton yet, the home of Fender and Agent Orange, Social Distortion and Burger Records! But I have to go down there.
We just found out that Thee Makeout Party! broke up! How can we bribe them to stay together?
Justin Maurer: Work in some oral sex? I dunno! L.A. RECORD should sponsor a Makeout Party trip to Disneyland.
Maybe we could give them hand jobs while wearing the Mickey gloves?
Justin Maurer: Just put them on the Small World ride over and over until they agree to keep playing!

THE CLOROX GIRLS WITH THE RED ONIONS, GESTAPO KHAZI, THE IMPEDIMENTS AND WOAH HUNX ON SAT., FEB. 13, AT THE 5 STAR BAR, 267 S. MAIN ST., DOWNTOWN. 8 PM / $12 / 21+. VISIT CLOROX GIRLS AT CLOROXGIRLS.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/CLOROXGIRLS.

Download: Greg Ashley “Amnesia”

(from Painted Garden available now from Birdman)

L.A. RECORD interviews Greg Ashley every year we can because he does such vital work in keeping Californian minds alive. His fearsome band the Gris Gris is back playing a few shows, but he’ll be opening for (and backing) the Dutchess and the Duke tonight and Friday for his first local shows since 2007. This interview by Daniel Clodfelter.

What led the Dutchess and the Duke to write their new album with you in mind as producer?
Greg Ashley (guitar/vocals): I originally met Jesse—the Duke—in Seattle in 2001 or so on the first tour that I did with my old band from Texas, the Mirrors. He was in some band called the Zombie 4 or something, and they dressed up like zombies and did the same covers the Mummies did—kind of a Mummies rip-off band. Then I moved to California and started playing with Oscar [bassist of the Gris Gris] and we started doing Gris Gris, and Oscar was a friend of his so we’d see him when we were in Seattle over the years. And yeah—at some point they decided they wanted me to record this record. Which is great! And they came down to record it. I’m going to play drums for them on this tour and open all the shows solo. When I open it’s going to be just me; then Dutchess and the Duke will be Kimberly and Jesse on guitars, Oscar on bass, and me on drums.
It seems like you’re producing more than ever before right now.
Greg Ashley: I had always wanted to do this kind of stuff—producing and recording bands. I had been doing it in the past, too, like the Time Flys record, a few Brian Glaze records, a few Battleship records, a bunch of stuff. Pretty much I got back from this one tour in 2007 and Gris Gris was going to get ready to do our third record and we moved into this warehouse [Ghost Town Gallery] so that we could have a practice space and studio. And I had been thinking that it would be cool to record bands all the time. Then Gris Gris broke up and rather than getting a day job it came together that I found enough work to live off of just by recording people—and I just haven’t been writing many songs over the past few years so its something that keeps me in music in some way or another.
Why have you kept your studio all analog?
Greg Ashley: I just never have been very computer savvy anyways! The first stuff I started recording was like cassette tapes and then cassette-tape 4-tracks. In 1999 or 2000 I bought this 8-track half-inch machine off eBay with the drummer of the Mirrors because we were talking about how we wanted to record our own record. We were really into ‘60s and ‘70s music and it seemed like if we wanted to get that aesthetic, then tape would be the way to do it. I got better at it over the years—just experimenting with it. I never even thought about recording with computers. I always have used tape.
Why did the Gris Gris break up in 2007? And what got you back together?
Greg Ashley: The original reason that the band kind of broke up was that in the fall of 2007 our keyboard player Lars got offered a job down in Los Angeles. He took the job and we were all kind of like, ‘Well, do we really want to get a new keyboard player?’ ‘Not really.’ So we just kind of broke up the band. Then the summer after that—we had taken some money from the label to do our third record, so we did the live record as something to give them.
Live at the Creamery?
Greg Ashley: Yeah—to repay them in some way for the advance money we’d taken. Then the year after that is pretty much now. Lars moved back up here and I’ve had a pretty slow year recording, so I was like, ‘Well, let’s try and make some money.’ I think the only way we’ll play any more shows now is if we get together and try to write some new material—we’ve been playing the same stuff for all these shows and we don’t have any new songs. I have an instrumental record that’s coming out next year. I recorded it over the summer and it’s going to come out in early 2010. Some of that stuff was material Gris Gris was working on two years ago when the band broke up. Whenever that comes out, we might do a show together and perform that stuff. Other than that it’s pretty up in the air.
What’s different about playing solo?
Greg Ashley: It depends on the type of crowd you get—that kind of determines it! It can be really satisfying if you get a quiet room with people that are listening just to you play your songs. When it’s just you and the guitar, people are forced to listen to the words and what the songs are about. But most of the times I don’t know how to get into venues like that, so I’m mostly playing bars and people are just ignoring you. But that’s cool. It’s a bar; it’s made for people to get drunk and party. If you play in a band in that environment it’s great because if people are drunk enough they’ll get into it. So it’s definitely easier with a band. But they’re two different things for me.
Earlier you mentioned your old Texas band, the Mirrors—recently some labels have reissued much of that back catalogue. Are you going to get Mirrors back together?
Greg Ashley: Birdman reissued our first album on CD and our second album on CD and LP and Hook or Crook put out our first album on vinyl. Somewhere around there—I think it was 2005—I got back together with those guys and we did a two or three week tour of the US. We didn’t come to the West Coast but we did everything else! I can’t remember when the last show was. We used to get together every once and a while and do a show whenever I’d be in Texas or something like that. But that probably won’t ever happen again. Everybody was still pretty much still living in Houston at that time but now everyone is totally scattered out—only one of the guys is still in Texas.
What brought you out to California from Texas?
Greg Ashley: That first tour I did with the Mirrors, we did a couple gigs in the Bay Area and I was like, ‘Wow! There are people who like this kind of music!’ Where we were playing before, we would be lucky to get ten people out to a show and that was already after we had a record out. One day we played at the college co-op and there were all these kids partying and that same night I met Oscar and I met this girl Lisa, who I soon started dating, and that’s kinda what brought me out here. It seemed like where I belong—at least more than Texas, I guess.
You recently played the Scion Garage Fest in Portland with Roky Erickson. Do you feel any connection to him besides both being psychedelic musicians from Texas?
Greg Ashley: He’s an influence, but a very minor one. I think a lot of people put my name next to his because of the press sheets that the record label wrote for my albums. They latched onto that—and that just gets repeated and echoed because when most people review your record, they just get the one sheet and cut and paste portions of it, rearrange it and put it there as a review without really reviewing it. So yeah—it’s because I’m from Texas and all that stuff. My older stuff—like the Mirrors for instance—definitely was influenced by the Thirteenth Floor Elevators and bands like the Beatles. Those bands are all still influences, but these days Leonard Cohen is probably my favorite songwriter. I like Hank Williams a lot, too—and the Kinks.

GREG ASHLEY WITH THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE ON WED., NOV. 11, AT SPACELAND, 1717 SILVERLAKE BLVD., SILVER LAKE. 8:30 PM / $8-$10 / 21+. CLUBSPACELAND.COM. AND WITH THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE AND THE HEAPS ON FRI., NOV. 13, AT THE CROSS-CULTURAL CENTER AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORIA AT IRVINE, IRVINE. 8 PM / $7 / ALL AGES. ACROBATICSEVERYDAY.COM. VISIT GREG ASHLEY AT MYSPACE.COM/MEDICINEFUCKDREAM.

(from Rent Party on Sympathy For The Record Industry)

Walter Lure was with the Heartbreakers during everything that would later become history—L.A.M.F., the Anarchy tour with the Sex Pistols and Live At Max’s and whatever else it says in Please Kill Me, which he hasn’t read. He speaks now before performing at the Knitting Factory with his band the Waldos. This interview by Daniel Clodfelter.

How to you get asked to play guitar for the Heartbreakers?
[My earlier band] the Demons were the lucky contact for me. You see, the singer of the Demons—Elliot—was a friend of the Dolls. I think he was actually their drug dealer! Elliot was looking for a band and it just turned out that we wound up sharing the Dolls’ rehearsal space. I would run into the Dolls from time to time—I had sort of known the Dolls, not personally, but since they were playing New York a lot I knew who they were. But then we started chatting, and Johnny came down to one of the Demons shows—I think it was our first gig at the 82 Club. You see, Johnny was always a sneaky little fuck—he pulls me over to the side and asked me if I wanted to join the band and my eyes just lit up! And I said, ‘Yeah, sure. Why not?’ But that was Johnny—he was probably out of his mind or whatever. Just putting the bug out there. Then a few months passed and I hadn’t heard anything until that gig the Demons played with them at the pub in Queens. There was hardly anyone there and we were just sitting around and Jerry pulled me aside and asked, ‘Do you like any of the Heartbreaker songs at all?’ ‘Yeah, I love ‘em.’ ‘Well, I think we want you to play.’ And that was it. I didn’t even know they were even thinking about me since it had been months. Soon after we started rehearsing and I was in the band.
How was it working with Johnny, Jerry, and Richard with their drug habits and conflicting egos? I know it led to Richard Hell leaving the band somewhat early on.
Richard leaving the band had more to do with ego than drugs. It was definitely challenging, since I was the new kid on the block. Johnny and Jerry were from the Dolls and they had the credibility—‘street cred,’ if you want—from that, and Richard had also been around. He already had the one song ‘Blank Generation.’ It was a great combination but they just needed another guitar player to hold it all together. And that’s what I was there for. I didn’t have any musical credentials like they all did. The ego battle was mostly Johnny versus Richard, with Jerry sort of playing the middle but mostly staying on Johnny’s side. Hell was sort of funny in the beginning because he all these wacky lyrics that made everyone laugh—you know, they were all junkies so they all had the same sort of humor—but that changed as time went on. It was a good combination. It was rock—the Hell songs were just sort of wimpy without a rock band behind him, and he added that sort of ‘Blank Generation’ element to the Heartbreakers stuff. A lot of people already had an idea of Johnny and Jerry, since they had already been around in the Dolls. It’s funny since there was only like a two- or three-year difference between the older generation and us, and there was a sort of a credibility gap. So the combination of Hell, who was sort of the newer wave, with Johnny and Jerry, who were more part of the tail end of glam, worked well. As much as I loved the Dolls—they wore some fucked-up clothes!—they were more of a transition between the glam and what became the punk scene. The actually brought the rock ‘n’ roll back to the forefront as opposed to the orchestral shit that was consuming everything before. I guess for that you could call them the godfathers of punk. That’s where the whole scene started—from them—but they weren’t really afforded the recognition.
You mentioned that Richard Hell was better when backed by a rock ‘n’ roll band—what was your impression of the Voidoids and his albums with them?
Let me start by saying that I remained good friends with them over the years and we still are friends. So I’m not going to say that I didn’t like it, but it didn’t have the same edge. For my own personal taste I tend to like rock more than clanky noises. They just didn’t have the same punch to it compared to with the Heartbreakers. For instance, ‘Love Comes in Spurts’ doesn’t even come close to ‘One Track Mind,’ which I wrote the music to and Hell added the lyrics over it—and once he left I just changed up the lyrics. [The Voidoids] didn’t have the same feel, but I’m sure he didn’t want it to be the same. They didn’t play the music like we did—which was more rock—but Hell didn’t necessarily want that. He had it with the Heartbreakers but he didn’t have to have it. He tried to do it on his own terms, but I don’t think that any of those songs have any sort of lasting power compared to what we had with the Heartbreakers.
After Hell left, you and Johnny Thunders were the main songwriters of the Heartbreakers—what was it like writing with him?
I didn’t really write anything with Johnny. Johnny would just show up to the rehearsal studio with a song and we’d just work on it. He was always running around really high. It was hard to hold a conversation with him—same with Dee Dee Ramone. You couldn’t really get a word in—at least that was my experience. However, I did write a few with Jerry. Jerry would have a guitar riff or chord progression and we’d play along and I would finish off the words or what not. With John, the only song we actually worked together on was ‘London Boys.’ I deliberately structured the music to sound like a Sex Pistols song and Johnny wanted to write the lyrics. The other ones, like ‘(Too Much) Junkie Business’—Johnny would just stick his name on it years later because he liked it so much and he wished he’d wrote it, even though I actually had.
The Heartbreakers—along with the Sex Pistols and the Clash—became part of the British Anarchy tour in 1976 that introduced the masses to punk rock. What are your most vivid memories from that tour?
The lack of gigs! It might have exposed British kids to our New York punk, but they already had their own type of punk before we got there. We didn’t realize until we got there how big it actually was—it was much bigger over there than in New York and the States. It was already mainstream over there, as opposed to still being underground here. And it was a different version as well. I thought the Sex Pistols were the best band I had seen in ages, and being on tour with them—it was great! And the Clash! The Damned didn’t really tour with us—they maybe played one or two shows. We all got along pretty well and everyone was still pretty innocent to a point—less egos involved. They were all in awe of Johnny and Jerry since the Dolls were basically their inspiration. Those were some of the best times! I’ve told this story about a hundred times—about being outside a theatre in Wales and the local priest and a bunch of parents were in a parking lot across the street with loud speakers and megaphones saying, ‘Tell your kids not to go into the theatre because the devil’s inside!’ while praying and waving bibles at us. We were all looking at the people like it was hilarious, and there were still all these kids inside the theatre.
On your website it says that after the Heartbreakers you worked the Ramones for a little bit—on Subterranean Jungle and Too Tough to Die. What was your role on those albums?
If you look at those albums on the record sleeves, hidden some place buried in a corner it says ‘special thanks to Walter Lure.’ I played the solos and guitar work on a lot of the stuff. On Subterranean Jungle, I played on every song. The next one, which I was think was Too Tough to Die, I played on like half of that. The one after that, Animal Boy, I played on like two or three songs. They were looking for something—a different sound—trying to get a hit record. They were popular but they weren’t making a lot of money—they made most their money touring and stuff. So they tried to do other things. Phil Spector and so on. Then they decided to get another guitar player and they asked me.
Did you ever play live with them or was it strictly studio stuff?
Just studio stuff. Johnny [Ramone] didn’t want people to know that he didn’t play all the songs—that’s why they didn’t really give me credit on the albums. Even live, they’d have their roadie do all the solos playing backstage on a milk crate. Johnny didn’t really want people to know that he couldn’t play that kind of guitar. He played his own thing but he had some sort of image issue. Not that it really made any difference because he had his own style.
What was your reaction to the passing of Johnny Thunders and Jerry Nolan in the early 1990s?
It was weird. It’s always a shock when you hear it, but Johnny was due for years—he was just going deeper and deeper. He just couldn’t get out of that whole drug syndrome. I remember when we were doing the Heartbreakers reunion in I guess November 1990. We had done a couple of rehearsals and it was Jerry, Johnny, myself and this guy Tony on bass. We’d be rehearsing, and Jerry’s calm now—he’d been on methadone for like 20 years. But Johnny was still running off every twenty minutes to do a shot or whatever. We had all gotten past the whole drug thing but Johnny was still going. When I heard it, it was still a shock, but I can’t say it was unexpected. With Jerry, he had a stroke and was in the hospital and I had a feeling he wasn’t going to come out of it. I went to visit him at one point and he was just a body lying on a bed with tubes running though him. They’re buried about twenty feet from each other in a cemetery in Queens.
You’re now playing with the Waldos—a band named after yourself which you’ve been doing for the past 20 years or so.
It was just me playing around New York getting people to play together with. There have been several incarnations as several people have died over the years. We did the CD in 1993, then Tony got sick and died in 1995 and I was ready to give it up because too many people were dying on me. Then we got asked to do a couple of shows at the Continental—a few nights as the Waldos and then a few as the Lures, and then there were these Japanese kids who were fans and came over with their own band and set up some shows. Then also the guitar player from Sonic Youth set up a few shows with us, and then it has become what it is now—with the two Japanese kids and Joe on drums. This has actually been the longest standing version, since like 1996 or 1995. It hasn’t changed much since—no one’s dropped dead on me for a while.

WALTER LURE AND THE WALDOS WITH THE STITCHES AND KEVIN K AND THE HITZ ON THU., AUG. 27, AT THE KNITTING FACTORY, 7021 HOLLYWOOD BLVD., HOLLYWOOD. 8PM / $10-$12 / ALL AGES. LA.KNITTINGFACTORY.COM. VISIT WALTER LURE AT MYSPACE.COM/LUREWALTER.

Stream: Electric Children “Judgment Day”

(from the We Are… EP available now from Electric Children)

Electric Children are a band from the Los Angeles area that—prior to hearing this EP—I had never heard of. Upon first spin, I was surprised to hear that this was not a band of Hendrix- or Bolan-obsessed youths but rather another band trying to bridge the gap between ‘60s psychedelia and ‘90s shoegaze—a gap bridged much too often in Los Angeles in the past ten years. Despite great musicianship and production, each of the songs on this four-track EP feels like a carbon copy of groups like the Raveonettes, Spiritualized or the Warlocks—bands who brought this combination of genres into the mainstream in the early 2000s. The band features dueling male and female vocals very reminiscent of the Raveonettes. In the first song, “Scene of the Crime,” the vocals seem to consist only of repeating the title of the song over and over in as shrill a voice as possible and—despite a catchy guitar riff and some distorted leads—the song becomes quite monotonous. The third track, “Judgment Day,” starts with a Davie Allan & and the Arrows-esque guitar intro that’s cut a bit short as the song jumps into the most overtly Raveonettes inspired track. While it’s arguable whether the band is truly trying to emulate the Raveonettes or if they just sounded similar out of coincidence, it’s clear that they have many of the same influences as the aforementioned band—Jesus and Mary Chain, Spacemen 3, Velvet Underground—and have came up with very close to the same result.

—Daniel Clodfelter

(from the “Teardrops On My Telephone” 7″ out now on Shattered)

Hunx is Seff (of Gravy Train!!! and trash-glam-punk-pop going all the way back to an Appleby’s in Tucson, Arizona) and Hunx and His Punx are Seff leading wide-eyed rocker babies through songs equal parts dirty Undertones and dirty underwear. They finish a wild visit to L.A. with an appearance at tonight’s vital Burger Basher! next door to the Smell. This interview by Daniel Clodfelter.

How are you doing?
I got strep throat the other night. A few nights ago in Seattle, I played a show and made out with everyone in the front row. Then the next night I decided to have a kissing contest and made out with a bunch more people. Last night I was really sick.
I saw somewhere that you had a Michael Jackson cover band in the early 2000s—what was your reaction when you found out?
Oh, my! I was so horrified—I literally cried for an hour straight. I was on the phone with stupid AT&T—on hold—and when the guy finally answered my call about this bill for $300, I was sobbing. They reduced my bill by so much! Because I think he thought I was upset about the phone bill but I was upset about Michael Jackson. I didn’t believe it at first. I guess I found out about it before it was confirmed so no one was really confirming that he was dead. It was kind of horrible—I don’t know why it hit me so hard. I remember when Tammy Faye died—when Joey Ramone and Anna Nicole Smith died, too. I cried really hard when they all died.
What kind of tombstone do you think he should have?
A giant sequined glove, I think, would be the best.
If you could pick your own tombstone, what would you choose?
Probably a dirty pair of underwear!
There is a certain catchiness to your songs that’s really addictive—I heard Justin from Nobunny contributed to some of the Hunx and His Punx songs.
There is really no ‘Justin from Nobunny.’ But Nobunny did write a couple of the early songs because we used to date for a long time—years ago. So I inspired him to write some songs. I guess his gay gene came out after dating me! Then he wrote some songs and I recorded them—actually we recorded them together. Some songs now are on my own and some have other songwriters. It’s kind of weird because all these people are asking to write songs for me now because I think they think I can’t write my own. But it’s actually cool because I feel like I’m a girl group.
There’s definitely a ‘60s girl group vibe.
I actually want it to be even more so.
One of my favorite Hunx and His Punx songs is ‘You Don’t Like Rock’N’Roll.’ What would you say to someone who doesn’t like rock’n’roll, other than what you already did in the song?
As long as they like punk or pop music, I’ll let them slide. And as long as they’re hot!
What’s your favorite rock’n’roll song?
I don’t know if it’s really rock’n’roll, but I really like the song ‘Rag Doll’ by the Four Seasons. And also ‘Rag Doll’ by Aerosmith.
You’ve released a number of 7” singles on various labels—are you going to keep it singles only or can we expect a Hunx and His Punx LP some time soon?
There’s going to be a compilation of all the singles because they’re all so expensive now. They are! One of them just sold for $60 on eBay—I was like, ‘What!? I still have a bunch of those in my closet!’ So there’s going to be a compilation of the singles. Then I want to make some disco 12’s next. I’m really into doing singles, I don’t know why. Well, more cover art and more photo shoots! But I would like to do albums, too.
You also co-own the Oakland hair salon Down at Lulu’s with Tina from the Bobbyteens, the Trashwomen, etc. Do you see yourself more as a musician or a business owner, shopkeeper or hair stylist or—
I see myself more as an entertainer actually! I don’t know if if it’s necessarily just musician—I recently just taped a reality show, but it’s secret. I do love owning a store but I’m definitely not a businessman. My dream is to just be an entertainer full time.

THE BURGER BASHER! WITH HUNX AND HIS PUNX, NOBUNNY, HARLEM, THEE MAKEOUT PARTY!, DEVON WILLIAMS AND WHITE NIGHT ON SAT., JULY 18, AT THE FIVE STAR BAR, 267 S. MAIN ST., DOWNTOWN. $10 / 8 PM / ALL AGES. MYSPACE.COM/BURGERRECORDS. HUNX AND HIS PUNX’S “DON’T CHA WANT ME BACK” IS OUT NOW ON TRUE PANTHER SOUNDS. VISIT HUNX AND HIS PUNX AT MYSPACE.COM/HUNXSOLO.